


There Might Be An Art To It (But I Don’t Think I Got The Skill) (BEN HARGREEVES)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 05:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20402710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: ben is the love of your life, and he insisted you take various martial arts classes. turns out it’s a good thing that you did





	There Might Be An Art To It (But I Don’t Think I Got The Skill) (BEN HARGREEVES)

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Ben was the one who wanted to see his siblings. He had stayed away, far away, since they held a faux funeral for him, but he wanted to see them after his father died. You didn’t know why; he didn’t invite them to your wedding, he didn’t invite them when the both of you got approved for adoption, and he didn’t invite them when you began the process of finding a child that you would bring into your house.

So why now? Why did he move you across the street? Why did he rush in to help when he heard the gunshots?

More importantly: why did you?

You were both sitting on the porch, drinking your nightly tea and debriefing on your days, you gazed at his old house. Ben did too, but he was at least more subtle about it. “-And then Savannah called me a bitch-” He huffed, shaking his head. “What? I can’t say anything to her, she’s my boss.”

“But you have an HR department for a reason, babe.” He teased you, smirking. “All you have to do is drop a hint that she’s being, to be crass, a bitch in the workplace. I’ll even go with you.” You knocked your knee with his, smiling fondly at your husband.

“I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too.” He kissed your nose, and then pressed a chase kiss to your lips. You hummed, looking back over to the grand house, wondering how Ben looked at it every single day. You also wondered how none of his siblings noticed he was, you know, not dead but that didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact that Ben had told you about his father, and the shit that happened. He told you about the abuse. He told you about the horror. (You had gotten mugged one day in an alley and he had unleashed the tentacles from his chest… You hadn’t been able to sleep for a week, but not because you were scared. Because you wondered how Ben dealt with that inside of his body.) You hated the house across from your apartment and everyone inside of it, even if you hadn’t met them.

Again, so why did you run inside when you heard the gunshots?

It was just one, then followed by a scream and pop! pop! pop! and you were on your feet before Ben was. Something ignited in you, and you were sprinting across the street. Ben was scrambling after you, yelling your name. Everything was a blur, but you found yourself next to Ben’s smaller, frailer sister Vanya.

You were lucky that you even knew her name, but luckier that you could kick some ass when it was required that you do so. It started when Ben began working at the bank: he had too many memories about bank robberies, and insisted that you began to take self defense classes. You loved it. You loved the rush of your muscles burning, loved when you downed your sparring partner, loved when people looked shocked when you told them your various belt colors in all of the different branches of martial arts. You lived for it.

It also made you feel marginally better going forward with the adoption process. If - no, when - you and Ben got your child you’d be able to protect them without relying on Ben’s… His… Well, his tentacles.

Whoever you were fighting landed one good punch and you felt your nose snap under their fist. Vanya gasped behind you, and you calmed with a stern, confident glance. You turned and swept their feet out from underneath them, landing a solid blow to their cheek before digging your the heel of your foot into their ribs. “God dammit!” They sunk their teeth into your ankle and you jerked away, delivering one swift kick to the side of their head before the other pointed a gun at you.

“See yah, bitch!” He cheered. You were startled and, well, you understood why deer spooked and wouldn’t move. Your throat dried, and the life you were so close to obtaining flashed before your eyes, but a thin hand jerked you to the side and behind a door. “Awe, man!”

“Hazel, let’s get out of here. We have what we want!”

You turned to look at who saved you. “Vanya?”

“Who are you?” She gazed at you in awe, hands still wrapped around your wrists. “You’re bleeding.” Sure enough, one of the bullets had grazed your cheek, and blood was dripping off of your chin.

“It doesn’t matter, where’s Ben?” He’d entered the house after you, but you hadn’t managed to see him since. “Vanya, have you seen Ben?” The house was quiet, so you could hear her gasping, eyebrows furrowed and confused.

“Ben’s dead, he’s been dead since we were kids. Who are you?”

And then you both heard it. It was Ben, shouting your name frantically from the other side of the house. He sounded unhurt, but you were never sure with Ben. Especially with those things inside of his chest. “Ben!” You jerked away from Vanya, but she stayed hot on your heels.

“He’s dead, what the fuck is happening?”

“Benny!” You crashed into Ben, his strong arms encompassing you like a warm quilt. “Oh, God, I thought you were hurt.”

“I thought you were hurt - you _are_ hurt.” He cupped your face, flinching when you flinched as he pressed on the cut. “What happened?” You shook your head, pushing his hand away from your face. It was slick with your blood, and you flinched again.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine, I promise, really. Vanya, she pulled me away just in time. Okay? I’m fine, Benny.” He kissed you, long and hard and not appropriate for in front of his sister. His sister who was still spluttering, asking Ben a million questions while he ignored her for you.

“Did you fight them by yourself?”

“Of course I did.”

“God,” He grinned at you, wiping the blood away once more, “God, I love you so much.”


End file.
